


What Are the Odds?

by reflexion



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Keith (Voltron), Dom/sub, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Grocery Store Employee!Keith, Humor, Light Angst, M/M, Multi, Music, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Power Bottom Keith (Voltron), Rimming, Sex first feelings later, Slow Burn, Slow Burnish?, Smut, Songfic, Top Lance (Voltron), but we love him anyway, keith is an asshole, klance, lots of porn, musician!Lance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2018-12-24 12:30:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12012771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reflexion/pseuds/reflexion
Summary: Keith Kogane didn’t expect to get the hottest sex of his entire life when he agreed to finally get out of his dorm.He also didn’t expect to become friends with his hookup.And he most definitely didn’t expect to fall in love with him.





	1. Haven't Met You Yet

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to my lovely and talented beta/friend/person, Leye :)

Keith Kogane opened the door to the unfamiliar restaurant, immediately sighing in relief at the blast of cool air that hit him upon entry. He'd known it was supposed to be hot when he decided to move to Miami, but  _ goddamn  _ if he didn't predict just how sweltering the weather would be during the summer. He shuffled past the small mob of people in the doorway to confirm his reservation for two.

 

“This way please, Sir,” the lady behind the counter smiled kindly upon taking his name, leading him away from the front desk.

 

Soft background music and idle chatter from patrons sitting at tables and sofas scattered around the room greeted his ears as he looked around. Altea, the newest and most popular restaurant to pop up in the downtown area, had just opened the week prior and was quickly gaining a reputation among locals for its comfortable and classy scene, tasty food, and extravagant drinks. 

 

The spacious room featured walls of muted red bricks that consisted of arched doorways that led to more tables. Lamps mounted on walls, candles on the tables, and fairy lights that were strung around the room gave the whole restaurant an almost ethereal feel. A few towering trees rose above the tables in strategic locations, the potted flora stretching up to meet the vaulted glass ceiling. To his left, there was a long wooden bar counter with patrons seated on stools and an impressive shelf behind it devoted to the showcasing of liquor bottles. Keith felt like he could use a glass as he edged around talkative customers, following the server to a cozy table near a stage at the back of the room.

 

“Thanks.” She nodded cheerfully and strolled away as Keith took a seat. He peered around the room while attempting to banish the mild irritation lapping at him. He'd always had a distaste for large crowds and loud noise. Why'd he choose to move to one of the most populous cities in the country again? He pulled out his phone.

  
  


**Keith:** where are you?

 

**Pidge:** im omw my uber is just incompetent af and traffic is awful

 

**Keith:** you’re the one who practically begged me to come out with you

 

**Keith:** hurry up.

 

**Keith:** I'm still down for takeout if you are tho

 

**Pidge:** someone’s cranky cause i woke them up from their nap :)

 

**Pidge:** be there in a few tho

 

**Pidge:** and we’ve literally had takeout every night you've been here Keith u need to relax

  
  


Keith scoffed at his phone before sticking it into his pocket. He looked up at the stage directly in front of him, admiring the gleaming black baby grand piano that took up some of the space. Also on the stage were a microphone, a music stand, and a cushioned stool. Maybe he'd get some entertainment to distract him from feeling so impossibly out of place in the elegant restaurant.

 

He leaned forward to pick up a slim drink menu off the table in front of him, eyeing the fancy beverages curiously and fidgeting with the hem of his dark red dress shirt.

 

“Hi, can I get you something to drink?” Keith halted his inner debate about whether he wanted to deal with a hangover tomorrow or not and looked up to find the source of the pleasant voice, meeting warm brown eyes.

 

“Oh, yeah, can I get a…” he spared a last quick glance down to the menu, deciding to skip the headache, “Bailey’s Irish Cream, please?” He'd always been fond of the drink, even though it was so unlike his usual preference for hard liquor.

 

“Awesome, sure. Is this your first time joining us?” The large man asked, habitually twirling a pen in his right hand.

 

“Yeah.” Something about the waiter’s welcoming presence prompted him to continue speaking. “Hey, by any chance do you know Katie Holt? She's-”

 

“Pidge! She’s in a few of my classes at Garrison Tech. We’re great friends. How do you know her?” He asked excitedly.

 

“Pidge and I have been online friends for a long time... I recently moved here and I'm going to be starting classes at Garrison this semester. Her brother Matt just moved out of their shared dorm room to some frat house, so I'm her new roommate. She told me to try to find you once I got here… she should be coming any moment now.”

 

“That's awesome, man! I'm Hunk,” he extended a hand and Keith shook it after a moment’s hesitation, “and I have a feeling we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other. It's great to meet you.”

 

“Same, I mean, about you- it's great to meet you too,” Keith managed. 

 

Smooth, Kogane. 

 

“I'm Keith.”

 

“Cool,” Hunk grinned warmly. “Do you have any questions about the menu or is there anything else I can do for you?”

 

“Um…” Keith glanced at the stage, “Is there anything going on tonight? Some kind of performance, maybe?”

 

“Yeah, actually, my buddy Lance is scheduled to play tonight in about…” a peek at his watch, “fifteen minutes. He should be getting here now to set-”

  
“Hunk, buddy, my man, what’s up?!”

  
  
Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

 

“Hey Lance,” Hunk laughed, turning to pat his friend’s back. Keith gave him a once over. The stranger was clad in dark pants and a buttoned up dress shirt-  _ damn,  _ he looked nice in blue. His sleeves were rolled up past his elbows to reveal toned forearms. A black guitar case on his back littered with stickers and decals seemed slightly out of place with his semi-formal appearance, but Keith couldn’t focus on it when the man had a pair of eyes that were almost as radiant as his wide smile.

 

“So, gonna introduce me to the hot guy, bud?” Lance smirked, sweeping his eyes up and down Keith’s form before bestowing a wink upon him. 

 

_ Quiznak. _

  
  
“Dude, don’t hit on my customers,” Hunk chastised, shoving him gently as Keith tried to come up with a way to get the stranger into his bed. Tonight. He quickly decided that he needed stronger liquor to complete the mission.

 

Lance laughed brightly-  _ sweet Jesus, end him now-  _ and strode towards the stage with a glance over his shoulder at them.    
  
“If you stick around, maybe I can buy you a drink later? I’m Lance,” he smiled charmingly.

 

“Y-yeah, that sounds good,” he managed as Hunk raised an eyebrow. 

 

“Awesome…” Keith realized a couple seconds later that Lance was waiting for a response.

 

“Keith. I'm Keith Kogane.” Lance’s elated expression made Keith’s chest tingle pleasantly.

 

“Keith,” Lance echoed. Keith couldn’t help but love the way the letters rolled effortlessly off his tongue. His smile widened and he turned around with a pleased hum to walk up the steps onto the stage.

 

“Okay, then… an Irish Cream, right?” Hunk chuckled. Keith snapped out of his trance. 

 

“Uh, no, scratch that. Can I get a Johnnie Walker Black, on the rocks please?” He requested with the remnants of a flush on his face. Hunk just kept laughing and nodded his head as he walked towards the bar. Keith immediately pulled out his phone to keep from staring creepily at Lance as he set up on stage.

 

He occupied himself by shooting Pidge some more passive-aggressive texts, swiping away at Candy Crush, and  _ not  _ watching the musician in front of him set up. Soon enough, Lance seemed like he was about to begin. Not that Keith would know, of course. He shoved his phone back into his pocket, sipping his drink. The tall man on the stage gave a final tweak to a knob on his speaker before taking a seat on the stool. His acoustic guitar was obviously well-cared for and used based on the gleam to the wood and the familiar way he handled it. It looked as if he had been playing the instrument since he was born.

 

“Hi, everybody,” Lance spoke cheerily into the microphone in a pleasing, saccharine tone. The mic carried his voice nicely throughout the room. Resounding greetings bounced off the walls of Altea, making Lance’s grin widen once more.

 

“I'm Lance, it's a pleasure to meet you all. I'm going to perform for a little while- feel free to give me requests or just drop by to say hello. Any donations you can give,” he jerked his chin down towards his open guitar case, “would be awesome and would go a long way in supporting what I love to do. Thanks and I hope you enjoy!”

 

Keith watched with interest as Lance tapped at a tablet that was propped up on the music stand before strumming out a bright chord to test the volume. The small microphone clipped onto his instrument carried the sound beautifully, letting it ring out. Without further ado, the man started to pluck at the strings with a wonderfully cheerful introduction to a familiar song. Then, Lance did something that Keith would never,  _ ever _ forget.

 

He pressed his lips to the microphone and began to sing.

 

“ _ I’m not surprised not everything lasts _ ,” he sang into the microphone, a smile crinkling the edges of his eyes, “ _ I’ve broken my heart so many times I stopped keeping track. _ ”

 

He was  _ good _ . No, not just good.  _ Amazing. Incredible. Phenomenal.  _ Fucking hell, Keith was so gay. This guy should be on American Idol or some shit. He knocked back some whiskey.

 

Keith could only stare dumbly after that, oblivious to anything but the way Lance looked and moved and sang his rendition of the song.

 

“He's good, eh?” Hunk murmured to him out of nowhere, chuckling softly as Keith jumped slightly. The waiter picked up his all-too-empty drink. “Want another?” Keith just nodded, laughing awkwardly.

 

“Yeah, he is… and yeah please, thank you,” he answered back distractedly, his focus returning to Lance. Hunk walked away with a knowing grin on his face.

 

The entire restaurant was silent as Lance continued to sing happily, their attentions successfully captured. His voice was bright and rich and a perfect blend of rough and silky smooth that made Keith want to melt into a puddle. He sang with a sense of optimism that perfectly suited the song’s lyrics and Lance’s personality. An older gentleman walked forward to drop a bill in his case. 

 

“ _ And I know someday that it’ll all turn out, you make me work, so we can work to work it out-  _ thank you, sir,” he nodded kindly, “ _ And I promise you kid, that I give so much more than I get… I just haven’t met you yet. _ ”

 

Altea gradually began to fill up with the soft chatter of the customers once again, but it seemed as if everyone had one eye on Lance. He didn't even realize that Pidge had walked into the establishment until she was plopping down onto the chair directly in front of him.

 

“Hey,” he greeted absently, tearing his eyes away from the musician with visible effort, “I take back all my complaints about coming here. We can eat here whenever you want,” he sighed dreamily, taking another gulp of his drink. More people dropped cash into Lance’s guitar case and he laughed as he performed, dancing and swaying to the song.

 

“You and I both know that we’re both too broke for that,” she answered flippantly.

  
“Yeah…”

  
  
“...Keith? Keith. Earth to idiot.” Keith blinked, turning back towards her with a frown.

 

“Asshole. You look nice, by the way.” Keith’s friend was clad in an olive green dress that complimented her skin tone.

 

“Mmhm, but not as nice as that guy up there, huh? You couldn’t be more obviously into him,” she grinned smugly as Lance continued to sing his heart out.

 

“He, um, he asked to buy me a drink.”

 

“Holy crap, really? Looks like you’re getting laid!-”

  
  
“Lower your fucking voice, holy crap, Pidge. And  _ no, _ I’m not going to sleep with him.”

  
  
“...You know you’re lying.” She wiggled her eyebrows absurdly.

 

Keith flipped her the bird, returning his attention to the man on the stage. He looked at him and was slightly startled by the sight of the warm pair of eyes trained on his own.

 

Lance continued to sing with amusement plastered on that pretty face, holding Keith’s gaze for the end of the chorus.

 

“ _ I just haven’t met you yet _ .”

 

Keith had to admit it.

 

Maybe Miami  _ did  _ have its perks

 

* * *

 

More alcohol, a ribeye steak, and many songs later, Lance finally announced that he was done for the night. The musician’s guitar case was filled with generous donations from customers that were almost as enamored with Lance as Keith was.

 

“So,” Pidge managed around a mouthful of her second crème brûlée, “I literally walked up to him, still holding the kiwi in one hand-”

 

“Pidge, fuck, he's coming over here,” Keith interrupted, his gaze shifting back and forth between his friend and the tall musician striding towards them. “Say anything embarrassing and you can say goodbye to all the old Xbox games I promised I’d give you,” he threatened.

 

“That is a prime example of cruel and unusual punishment,” Pidge muttered, taking another bite of dessert.

 

“Well, I need to-” He was interrupted by Lance’s arrival.

 

“Hi, I’m Lance,” he greeted cheerfully to the young woman sitting next to him. Keith could identify a tinge of uncertainty on his expression, though. So did Pidge apparently, because she quickly piped up.

 

“I'm Katie, but I go by Pidge. I take it you've already met my  _ roommate _ Keith?”

 

Ah, so that was it.  _ Roommate _ , not  _ boyfriend _ . A ghost of a smile appeared on Lance’s face and the uncertainty cleared away like clouds on a summer day. Well, maybe not a Miami summer’s day. It was rainy as hell from what he’d seen, despite its reputation.

 

“I have,” Lance hummed, looking down at Keith. “I believe I promised you a drink, Keith,” he added smoothly.

 

“I believe you did,” he agreed, liquid confidence flowing through his veins and a smile creeping onto his face. “Shall we?” He was eager to get away from the threat of embarrassment that Katie Holt posed with each second that passed.

 

“Of course. You're welcome to join too, Pidge,” he added, looking at shorter girl. Keith gave her a warning stare as she snickered.

 

“Don't worry about it, I'll hang around until my friend finishes his shift here. Have a gay-  _ good  _ time,” she grinned wickedly. 

 

Keith stood up, giving Pidge a half-hearted glare before turning to Lance. The guitarist gave him a welcoming flash of pearly whites as he placed a gentle hand on his back, leading him towards the bar. 

 

“Is this your first time eating here at Altea? I think I’d remember a face like yours.” Lance asked as Keith scouted out two empty seats at the crowded counter.

 

“Yeah. I just moved to Miami last week, actually,” he responded with just a trace of a flush on his pale features.

 

“Oh, really? Where from?” Lance asked curiously as they arrived at the bar. Keith took a seat on one of the cushioned stools next to Lance. 

 

“A place called Milan. You've probably never heard of it, it's not exactly famous. It's  _ really _ small.”

 

“What? Of course I've heard of Milan! That's amazing, Keith!”

 

“No, no, I lived in Milan,  _ Ohio _ , not Milan,  _ Italy _ ,” he laughed, propping his head in his hand and turning towards Lance. Three cheers for swivel chairs. 

 

“Oh,” he flushed a little in embarrassment. “Why’d you move?” Lance asked quickly. Keith had a sudden urge to sweep a distracting strand of chocolate brown hair off Lance’s forehead. It looked soft.

 

“Because it was boring as hell. It's sparsely populated and there's really nothing to do,” he shrugged.

 

“So then why'd you live there in the first place?” The man countered effortlessly. Keith’s eyebrows drew together and his lips pursed into a tense line before he let out a nervous chuckle.

 

“My… my parents passed away in a car crash when I was 18. I moved to Milan right after so I could have some time alone to think, to figure things out. It was pretty bleak…” he trailed, wincing a little at Lance’s sympathetic and slightly horrified expression. “I’m so sorry, that was really morbid, fuck,” he quickly added. “It's all good now, though, I already worked past the crippling psychological damage,” he laughed anxiously, cringing once more at the deepened frown fixed on his companion’s face. “Lance, that was a joke,” he clarified a little unconvincingly. “I'm-” he was swiftly interrupted by a gentle hand on his shoulder. Keith could feel the warmth of it through his shirt. 

 

“I'm sorry you had to go through that, Keith,” he murmured, his eyes sad. It made Keith’s heart tug in his chest. “I can't imagine how difficult it must have been.” Keith had to swallow past the sudden lump in his throat, just nodding and looking anywhere but Lance’s empathetic gaze.

 

As if some divine being were watching over him, a bartender with bright orange hair and a bushy mustache of the same hue appeared behind the counter to save Keith from the conversation. Keith squinted his eyes at the ridiculous facial hair.

 

“What can I get for you lads?” The man asked cheerfully. 

 

Keith swear he could actually hear a little demon on his shoulder.  _ ‘You need to be hammered if you want to catch this one, Keithy,’  _ it hummed in his mind.

 

“Lance, have you ever heard of drinks by the name of Three Wise Men on a Farm?”

 

“Uh, no?” Lance frowned as the bartender started to laugh. 

 

“You might regret that in the morning,” the orange-haired man advised. Lance raised a curious eyebrow.

 

“We’ll have two of whatever he just said, Coran. Put it on my tab,” Lance chuckled.

 

Coran laughed heartily. “Sure, my boy. On the house. You had a great performance today.” Lance and Keith both thanked the bartender as he bustled to complete the order. The musician was quick to change the subject when they were alone again. 

 

“I swear I'm usually better with my people skills,” he quipped, “it's just that I get thrown off my game by really attractive boys with funny-looking mullets.”

 

“Thanks- wait, funny-looking mullet? My mullet is perfectly acceptable.” Keith retorted.

 

“Hmm… nope, no it's definitely not. You look like Billy Ray Cyrus.” Lance deadpanned, clearing his throat dramatically before bursting out into a raspy impression of the singer, “ _ I want my mullet back! My ol’ Camero, an’ my eight track! _ ”

 

Keith laughed brightly, shaking his head. “Sorry to tell you, but I have no idea who that is.”

 

“Wait man, are you shitting me?”

 

“Nope. I've never been too into country-”

 

“Dude, it’s Billy Ray Cyrus! Miley Cyrus’s dad! Seriously, the song is from Hannah Montana!”

 

“...Isn't that a kid’s show?”

 

“Only  _ the best one ever _ . You never watched it?”

 

“Nope, can't say that I did.”

 

“...are you kidding? Did you even have a  _ childhood?! _ ”

 

“I'm pretty positive that aired when I was a teenager.”

 

“Nobody’s ever too old for Miley!” Lance protested. Keith’s judgmental stare prompted him to keep talking. “ _ And _ my little siblings happen to love it. They make me watch reruns with them.”

 

“Whatever you say…” Keith and Lance both laughed contentedly. 

 

“So, tell me about yourself, Mr. Kogane. As of right now, you're a total enigma,” Lance requested.

 

Keith hummed in thought. “My name is Keith, I’m a Scorpio, and I like long, romantic walks on the beach,” Keith answered with a grin. 

 

“Really?”

 

“No. I don't know my star sign and I hate the beach. I burn really easily.”

 

“I don't even know where to start… how do you not know your star sign?” Lance looked genuinely troubled by the revelation and Keith felt a surge of fondness for the man.

 

“Well, I don't know my real birthday. I was adopted. My dad used to tell me that he found me in a trash can,” he remembered, laughing a little at the thought of his dad’s old sarcasm. “My parents picked November 15th as my honorary birthday, but it's probably at least a few months before then.”

 

“That's awesome! You get to have two birthdays,” Lance chuckled. “Now, onto a more pressing matter… how in the world is it possible to dislike the beach? And then why did you pick  _ Miami _ of all places to move to?”

 

“I dunno, I just don't like it. And I moved here to go to  _ college _ , not to mess around at the beach,” he scoffed.

 

“Where do you go to school?”

 

“I'm starting classes at Garrison Tech next semester.”

 

“That’s awesome! I live two minutes away from the campus,” Lance exclaimed cheerily. “Maybe we’ll be seeing more of each other.”

 

“Maybe we will.”

 

Coran, timing as impeccable as ever, returned to them from behind the counter with a tray piled high with shot glasses. He speedily set four in front of Lance and the remaining four in front of Keith.

 

“Johnnie Walker, Jim Beam, Jack Daniels, Wild Turkey,” Coran informed them as he pointed to each little glass in front of them, one at a time. “Three Wise Men on a Farm,” he finished with a wicked grin. “I doubt either of you boys will be fit to drive after this, so call an Uber now.” Coran walked away with a hearty laugh, leaving Lance with his jaw hanging low.

 

“Are you trying to get me drunk so you can seduce me?” Lance snorted and turned to Keith.

 

Keith paused, contemplating the words. He'd already come this far- why not take a gamble? It wasn't if he got a chance like this every day…

 

Fuck it. 

 

“Yep. Why don't we drink up so you can tell me if it's working?” Keith purred with a mental prayer to anybody who cared to listen that the night would go his way. The way Lance’s tongue darted out to swipe across his lips was both the ultimate reassurance and the epitome of sin.

 

“All right, Keith Kogane.” Lance picked up his first shot. “To free drinks, world peace, and pretty boys,” he murmured, leaning closer as he raised the glass.

 

“Cheers.” They both knocked back one, two, three, four shots in quick succession and immediately started to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. The rational part of Keith told him that there was no way the alcohol had kicked in so fast, but then Lance was leaning even closer to him and the distinctly masculine yet vanilla-sweet scent of his cologne gave Keith a head rush so intense his vision swam.

 

“What are the odds you’ll take me home tonight?” Keith asked before his mind caught up to his mouth. He felt color rise to his face as he processed the words. The rapidly strengthening haze in his head from the liquor wasn’t helping his case as he fumbled for an explanation.

 

“I thought you’d never ask.” Before Keith had time to realize that maybe he  _ would  _ get some dick tonight, Lance was surging forward and letting their lips crash together. The kiss was sloppy, rushed, and Lance’s chin was jutting at an awkward angle against the side of his, but the way the guitarist sucked on his bottom lip and snaked a tongue into his mouth made Keith shiver despite how overwhelmingly  _ warm  _ Lance felt against him. The brunet tasted like bourbon, which Keith obviously expected, and he detected undertones of Listerine and what only could be described as unadulterated  _ Lance.  _ He moaned quietly against soft lips, rising to his feet the second they disconnected. Lance stood too and pulled out his phone as if he and Keith were as of one mind, quickly ordering an Uber while Keith looked on impatiently and tried to resist pouncing on the taller male.

 

“Ten minutes. There’s traffic,” Lance pouted. Keith reached for his hand and started to pull him towards the bathroom. 

 

“I guess we’ll have to get a head start while we wait, then,” he grinned and spared a quick look over his shoulder. Lance’s eyes were wide and filled with unmistakable lust. The musician’s lips curled upward and in that moment he looked dangerous-  _ predatory. _

 

“I guess we will.”

 

* * *

 

Lance realized two things as Keith Kogane shut the bathroom door behind them, turned the lock, and proceeded to make his body and mind turn to putty.

 

The first and most prominent thought in his fuzzy head was that the man was  _ stunning. _ He had a set of brilliant eyes that were a deep blue and looked almost violet in close proximity and the dim lighting of the restroom. His skin was flawless, a shade of alabaster white that Lance craved to ruin with his mouth. Keith seemed to have a similar mindset because he was on top of Lance without a second’s hesitation, pushing him against the door and latching that hot, pretty mouth onto his neck to lick, suck, and  _ bite. _ Lance couldn’t find it in him to protest the creation of the blatant red marks on his own neck, his lips parting to groan low and sultrily against that soft, black, god-awful mullet that smelled faintly of strawberries and dreams come true.

 

The second thing he realized was that the man currently wrapping his arms around Lance’s neck was  _ rough _ , all hurried motions and desperate swipes of his tongue. It must have been the alcohol speaking, but Lance instantly felt an overwhelming desire to pin him down and force a slower pace upon him, one that would make his toes curl and broken pleas fall from those chapped pink lips and for Keith Kogane to just  _ unravel  _ under his ministrations.

 

He brought his hands to the shorter man’s shoulders and trailed them down, gently, slowly, as Keith continued to suck eagerly on his neck like a hungry vampire from one of the shitty romance novels his sister indulged in as a teenager. He reveled in the small shudder he felt against his fingertips as his hands caressed Keith’s sides and came to rest at his hips. The man smelled like cheap, drugstore cologne but Lance couldn't help but greedily inhale the scent anyway. It somehow just  _ worked _ and a nagging suspicion lingered in the back of his mind, telling him that he'd still think the man smelled delectable no matter what perfume he used.

 

“Someone’s enthusiastic,” Lance drawled into Keith’s ear, and  _ woah _ , he didn't even recognize his own voice. His tone was low and gravelly and oozed sex appeal and,  _ fuck yeah,  _ he felt Keith’s mouth drop open in a silent groan against his collarbone.

 

“Can you blame me?” Keith murmured against his skin after a heartbeat, and  _ holy shit.  _ If Lance’s voice oozed sex appeal, then Keith’s must have been the actual embodiment of it, all honeyed and soft and thinly masking the sweet, sweet sound of desperation that Lance could detect underneath the words. He felt that sinful mouth on him again in no time, quiet, wet kissing sounds making his knees week.

 

Lance, always one to pride himself on both his unpredictability and his prowess in the bedroom (well,  _ restroom  _ in this case), brought his hands up to Keith’s shoulders to forcefully spin him around. In a flash of motion, their positions were reversed and Lance was looming over his slightly shorter companion. He grabbed the other male’s wrists and pinned them over his head against the door. Before Keith could protest at the rough treatment, Lance jammed his thigh in the small gap between Keith’s legs, pressing it up against the tell-tale bulge in his jeans, and leaned forward to capture his lips. He savored the way that Keith immediately began to rut against his thigh, moaning into his mouth and sucking on his tongue like a starving man. They made out messily until their lungs were burning for air and both of their lips were swollen from the forcefulness. Lance pulled back to chuckle lowly.

 

“Something about you tells me that you like it  _ hot  _ and _ dirty _ , pretty boy… I bet you just want me to take you apart, huh?” He asked, voice seductive and honeyed over as he bet all his chips on a suspicion he just  _ had  _ to confirm. “Do you want that? Do you want me to just  _ wreck  _ you?” He asked teasingly against the pale neck. Keith’s breath hitched and Lance could feel the man’s heartbeat quickening against his lips. He let his mouth trail to his Adam’s apple to suck gently, efficiently cutting off his partner’s answer. Keith’s head tipped backward and a low groan sounded out in the place of words from those perfect lips. 

 

Lance released his wrists and allowed his hands to roam along the expanse of Keith’s back over his red button up to explore the intricacies of his broad shoulders and let his fingertips dip into ridges of pure muscle as he made his way down to Keith’s slim waist. The man brought his own hand to fist a handful of Lance’s short hair, curling his fingers and tugging slightly on brown locks as his other one came to rest on the small of Lance’s back.

 

“You gonna cum in your pants like a teenager, muñeca?” He grinned upon not receiving an answer.

 

“No,” Keith panted out and, from the way his voice sounded, the single word was a complete lie. Lance smirked against Keith’s throat.

 

“I wouldn't mind if you did, gorgeous, I'd bring you back for another round,” he teased. Before Keith could come up with a retort, he cupped the black-haired man’s  _ glorious _ ass and squeezed hard through those sinfully tight jeans. The resounding moan he elicited from Keith made his dick twitch in his pants.

 

Fucking  _ god,  _ Lance wouldn't mind spending the rest of his days writing sonnets to Keith’s shapely bottom. The man was made up of firm, toned muscle in some places yet deliciously soft in others. He had the sudden urge to bury his face in that ass. to have his head crushed by luscious, pale thighs as he-

 

Lance was snapped out of his reverie by a quiet huff of air against his ear. He started to knead the mounds of flesh in his palms roughly, a silent apology for the lapse in action, prompting a choked off moan from the man his hands were servicing. He took extreme pleasure in the color starting to bloom across Keith’s cheeks and neck and suddenly wondered what the man would look like naked and writhing on his sheets. Moaning and gasping and  _ yelling  _ for more,  _ begging  _ for Lance to make his toes curl and his body explode with sensation. Taking his cock from behind, below, the front, over and over again until his entrance was swollen and leaking Lance’s cum. 

 

He absently contemplated whether the shorter male currently sharing the same oxygen as him would appreciate the dirty fantasies, knowing that a slip of his tongue would inevitably lead to full-fledged dirty talk at some point in the night.

 

_ “Lance..” _

 

“Yeah, cariño?”

 

“Do I have enough time to suck your cock in here?” Keith questioned, his voice breathless. Lance’s jaw dropped and heat pooled to his gut at the thought of the male on his knees and choking on his dick. He pulled his phone out with wobbly hands, his bravado gone, to check the status of their Uber driver. Keith just smirked knowingly, the little minx.

 

“Three minutes,” Lance answered, frustration mounting because there was no way in hell he was getting his blow job and… and before he knew it, Keith was dropping to his knees and working Lance’s zipper with deft fingers. Lance wished he could photograph the moment, admiring the erotic sight. Keith’s cheeks were flushed and his eyes were heavily-lidded.

 

“I'll have to work fast, then,” Keith shrugged, glancing up to meet incredulous blue eyes. He grinned, shaking his head a little as he pulled Lance’s pants off with one swift motion. Leaving the material pooled around his ankles, Lance watched in awe as Keith stared at his prominent hard on through his navy blue boxer briefs.

 

“Think you can handle it, champ?” Lance found himself uttering to fill the sudden silence. Keith immediately laughed, loudly and oh-so-brightly. Lance wanted to record the sound and set it as his ringtone.

 

“I guess we’re about to find out,” Keith teased, playing along with a smile dancing at the corners of his lips. And, just like that, the slow-burning, all-consuming flavor of desperation that had been hanging thickly in the air between them was gone; replaced instead by something lighter, something playful and carefree yet even more intimate all the while.

 

Keith leaned forward and pressed his face to Lance’s arousal before mouthing along the damp fabric at the front of his underwear hotly, making Lance let out a tortured groan from above him. He hooked a finger around the hem of his boxers and slowly pulled the material down. Lance could only watch in amazement as Keith tugged his underwear low enough to free his already achingly hard dick. He felt a smug grin break out across his features upon noticing the shift in Keith’s expression; lust filled eyes widening and his lips parting oh-so-slightly.

 

“Fuck,” Keith thought aloud, and Lance was unable to move or think properly at the sight of the smokin’ hot stranger looking at his cock as if he'd found Jesus. 

 

“God, Keith, you're so fucking sexy,” he murmured headily, “I wanna fuck that pretty little mouth so bad.” 

 

“Well what are you waiting for, then?” He asked  _ way  _ too innocently and reached a hand up to grab the base of Lance’s dripping shaft. He leaned forward just enough to take the head into his mouth. Lance’s jaw dropped, his eyes fluttered closed, and he lost all higher brain functions as Keith Kogane began to bob his head at an agonizingly slow pace. Tanned hands fisted in inky black hair and gently tugged. It wasn't as if he could help himself- Keith’s hair was just too pretty and the white-hot sensations running through him were too powerful.

 

That's when Lance discovered that Keith gave head just like he seemed to do everything else- throwing himself headfirst into the task at hand and giving a hundred and fifty percent. 

 

Keith took what he could fit of the thick length into his mouth and laved over it wildly with his tongue before pulling back and repeating the actions again and again and  _ again.  _ Lance melted, dissolving into a hot mess of groans and gasps. He couldn't resist guiding Keith’s head to move faster and pulled on his hair as if he were tugging the reins on a horse. Keith, surprisingly, didn't resist. The man simply let Lance use his mouth and, if that didn't get Lance’s blood running hot, he didn't know what did.

 

“So good, baby, yeah, just like that. Fucking hell, you're so beautiful,” he rambled nonsensically. For what it was worth, Keith seemed to be digging the praise and moaned lowly around his length. Lance realized that he'd been making the grave error of closing his eyes during the blowjob of his life and forced himself to open them, looking down.

 

Lance almost blew it right then, locking eyes with the man who was currently sucking his cock like he was desperate for it. Keith’s eyes were slightly watery and his lips were stretched wide around Lance’s dick as if he had appeared straight out of a cheesy porno. Keith’s hands transferred themselves to Lance’s thighs to start kneading the tanned flesh in between his fingers and the musician’s grip tightened harshly in jet-black locks.

 

“I'm close,  _ shit,” _ Lance breathed, his jaw dropping and his hips pounding into Keith's mouth. Jeez, did this boy even have a gag reflex?

 

Keith Kogane, obviously out to kill him slowly, chose that moment to pull back and ease his mouth off his cock. He coughed, wiped his mouth, and looked up at Lance with pure sin flirting on his features. 

 

“Already? Our Uber should be here by now, anyway,” Keith shrugged conversationally as if his lips weren't swollen and his pupils weren't the size of planets. The man’s hair was in absolute disarray from Lance’s assault to it, but Keith seemed oblivious as he rose to his feet.

 

“Pull up your pants, Lance, we should get going,” he hummed. Lance, annoyance and disbelief and arousal warring inside him, suddenly brought strong hands to Keith’s shoulders to press him back against the wall firmly. 

 

“Think you're so funny for making me wait, huh, kitten? I should…” Lance’s words died out as he processed the embarrassingly loud moan that emerged from Keith’s pink lips and the lust written all over his face. 

 

“You like that?” He asked, finding it hard to believe that this wasn't some insane wet dream, “You like when I call you names, kitten?” Lance asked in the sultriest voice he could muster, his lips pressed against Keith’s ear. The gasp he elicited from the man developed into a drawn out groan as Lance started to tug on his earlobe gently with his teeth.

 

“ _ Fuck yes,”  _ Keith responded in a low whisper, his back arching a fraction up off the bathroom wall.

 

“I just want to-”

 

The boys were interrupted by harsh knocks on the door. “Is somebody in there? This is a public bathroom, the door shouldn't be locked,” a voice sounded out sternly from the other side. Keith and Lance shared a fearful glance before the latter male burst into laughter.

 

“You look like somebody just shot your dog, Keith,” he grinned before picking up his pants walking forward to fix his hair and clothes in the mirror.

 

Keith scoffed, coming to stand behind him, looking in the mirror and mimicking his actions. “Asshole. You could get banned from playing music here, you know.”

 

“Don't worry, I know the owner,” he laughed, adjusting his collar with a satisfied nod. “You look great. Let's get outta here.”

 

Lance could practically feel the embarrassment radiating off Keith as they walked out to find a tall man in a yellow polo shirt waiting by the bathroom door angrily, staring at the emerging pair as if they had dildos stuck to their foreheads.

 

They passed Pidge’s table, where Hunk was now seated as well, and stopped momentarily.

 

“Hunk, will you do me a solid and take my shit back to your place?” He asked in regards to his music equipment. “I have,” he glanced at Keith, “uh... urgent matters to attend to,” he grinned cockily. Pidge broke out into loud laughter as Hunk grimaced.

 

“Ew, dude. Fine, I’ll take your stuff. Don't do anything dumb,” Hunk advised.

 

“Use protection!” Pidge added before launching into another fit of giggles.

 

“Wait, you two know each other?” Lance asked, shock evident on his expression. Keith only groaned in annoyance, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the door.

 

“I’ll explain later, dude. Go,” Hunk, ever the perfect angel, dismissed them.

 

“Thanks a bunch, bro! See you, Pidge!” Lance excused swiftly and before he knew it, they had made it out of Altea, standing outside on the crowded sidewalk. 

 

“We’re looking for a black Honda Civic… there it is!” He cheered happily. He glanced sideways at the man who’s cold hand was enveloped in his own, star struck for a moment by just how pretty the man looked in the fluorescent lighting of the neon signs advertising the countless bars in the area.

 

Before too much time passed and Keith got creeped out by his staring, Lance snapped out of it and walked the man to the car. A freckled kid who mustn't have been much older than twenty-one rolled down the driver’s window.

 

“Headed to Garrison, huh? It should be about an hour in this traffic.” The guy said as Lance and Keith slipped into the backseat of the parked vehicle. Lance heard the man next to him groan in frustration at the lengthy time estimation.

 

“Yeah, that's fine, thanks,” Lance answered the man with a sympathetic smile to the pretty boy in the backseat. He felt a little giddy at the realization that they were both still holding hands and offered Keith a reassuring squeeze. He received one in return and could have died happily then and there as he felt Keith’s head come to rest against his shoulder. He laughed softly and placed a hand on Keith’s thigh, the action surprisingly lacking the lust driven intent from earlier.

 

It looked like they would be in for an interesting night.


	2. Little Red Corvette

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back, bitches.

With the blissful feeling of Keith pressed comfortably up against his side, Lance couldn't decide whether the car ride felt too long or much too short. Nevertheless, in a little under an hour, their driver was pulling the car up to the sidewalk directly in front of Lance’s flat. He felt his pulse quicken and anticipation gave way into an inkling of the heady arousal from earlier that evening.

  


“That’ll be-” the driver started, but Lance was faster. He shoved a fistful of bills towards the front of the car and the kid in the driver’s seat took them tentatively.

  


“Keep the change and have a good night.” With that, Keith and Lance were sliding out of the vehicle and stepping out into the hot night once again. The Cuban boy grabbed his partner by the hand, pulling him up the front steps into a little courtyard where his front door was housed as the car pulled away. He reached into his pocket and fumbled for his keys as Keith looked around. Lance heard a quiet laugh from behind him just as he unlocked the front door. 

  


“What?”

  


“Nothing. I'm just excited to finally get my hands on you again,” Keith hummed happily, obviously still plastered, and Lance felt his dick jump eagerly in his pants. He wondered whether the guy was like this when he was sober- all smiley and pleasant. For some reason, he sincerely doubted it.

  


He turned around and closed the distance between them with a single step, a hand fisting in black hair as their lips clashed together. Lance moaned into a mouth still saturated with liquor, feeling himself being pushed back against his door. He had half the mind to reach one hand down to the doorknob as Keith pounced on him. The door gave way and he stumbled backward with the shift in balance, lips still attached to Keith’s. 

  


“I want you  _ so bad,” _ the man groaned, his breath like an aphrodisiac against his own lips, and Lance was absolutely  _ gone.  _ He could hear the air rush out of Keith as he turned the man around and shoved his chest against the front door, the action slamming it shut. He pressed his front to the broad back in front of him and let the tent in his pants rest against the sculpted ass sticking out for him.

  


“I’m gonna take you apart, baby,” he promised drunkenly against Keith’s ear and he could feel the man shudder against him in the dark. “I’ll make you forget your own fucking name.” And yeah, sure,  _ whatever,  _ the words  _ may  _ have sounded like they were from a cheesy porno, but could you  _ blame him? _ Keith was pretty and dangerous and he was  _ there.  _ Lance started to grind his hips forward against the swell of his ass and Keith let out a desperate sound against the door, rocking those perfect hips backward.

  


“What’s taking so long, then?” Keith breathed out. The words were absolutely, certainly, undoubtedly a challenge, and Lance had no intention of backing down. He brought a hand to Keith’s shoulder to spin him around again, kissing him deeply as he picked the man up by the backs of his thighs. Keith immediately slung strong arms around his neck, wrapped his legs around his waist, and held on tightly as Lance started to walk. 

  


The Cuban male moved through the loft quickly, distracted by the hot breath against his ear and the filthy drag of a slick tongue against his skin. He groped at Keith’s ass and dipped one hand under the waistline of his pants to slide down against bare flesh. The mouth at his ear moaned, low and filthy, and Lance almost tripped on the stairs he was rapidly climbing. That totally seemed like something Drunk Lance would do, dropping his hot date on the ground and sending them both to a hospital, so he forced himself to slow down as he rounded the corner and ascended up more steps. 

  


By the time he made it to his bed, Keith was roughly sucking a dark bruise onto the side of his neck, not bothering to limit the hot scrape of his teeth. He reluctantly pulled the man off of him by his hips and tossed him carelessly onto the bedsheets beneath them. He took a second to appreciate the surprised little moan that the action elicited from the raven-haired male before crawling on top of him. Lance straddled the shorter man, leaning down to connect their lips in a deep, urgent kiss.

  


Keith placed a hand on the nape of Lance’s neck to hold him in place as they made out desperately, and  _ fuck _ , Lance was just completely star struck. Like, seriously. When was the last time he managed to lure someone  _ this hot _ into his bed? Oh, right.  _ Never.  _ He had a stupid urge to pause their frantic movements to get the guy’s phone number. Hot  _ damn,  _ he wouldn't even care if the dude just wanted him to be some sort of fuck-buddy, his boyfriend, or even just a casual acquaintance. He was too gorgeous and too addictive on his tongue to let go of and never see again.

  


And suddenly those thoughts were being violently ejected from his head with the force of a fucking train because Keith Kogane was pulling on Lance’s bottom lip with perfect white teeth and looking up into his eyes sultrily. Lance could make out his lustful gaze even in the blackness of the bedroom. He was frozen as pale hands slid down the expanse of his chest and started to undo his buttons carefully, slowly. How in the living hell did this boy have so much patience?

  


Lance gave him an impatient groan, resolving to make it impossible for Keith to maintain that slow, careful demeanor. He leaned down to suck hotly on Keith’s neck with that same agonizing pace. Felt the man’s pulse and the warmth of his skin under his lips. The hand on his shirt buttons stuttered as he languidly continued to ravish that gorgeous neck with his tongue. How was it possible for necks to be beautiful? Somehow, Keith’s was. Even in the dark, Lance could see the little goosebumps rising on perfect, pale flesh. He could also feel the tiny bumps when he ran his tongue down the side of his neck to his collarbone and sucked hard.

  


“ _ Oh…”  _ the man mumbled, the syllable wobbly in his pleasure. Keith grew decidedly quicker, trying to rip the shirt off of Lance the second the buttons were unfastened. He chuckled smugly, leaning up for a moment to shrug out of the shirt and toss the offending material to a corner of the room.

  


“You look good in red,” Lance murmured teasingly as Keith started to work on his own buttons, a grin pulling at his lips. “Maybe I should leave that shirt on you while I fuck you.”

  


Keith protested, his head shaking. “I wanna be able to feel your skin on mine.” The man lying underneath him slipped out of the shirt at a mind-numbing speed. He then proceeded to make Lance’s brain  _ melt _ by bringing his hands to the taller man’s chest and dragging them downward, his nails scratching lightly down tanned skin. 

  


“You should be a model or something,” Keith mumbled absently, eyes glued to Lance’s abdomen, and he just knew that it had to be the alcohol speaking. Had a gut feeling that the man wouldn't carelessly admit these things when he was sober.

  


“Shit, cariño,” he swore, already rushing down to claim more of those kiss-swollen lips. The further he shoved his tongue in that pretty mouth, the more the taste of liquor dissipated and the flavor of some sugary sweet candy rose to the surface. Lance was hit by a wave of deja vu, memories arising of sitting in the movie theater with his siblings, sucking on red skittles (they were his favorite).

  


“I know I’m asking late, but you're clean, right?” Lance asked in a wild slur against his mouth, not even waiting for an answer before licking at the man’s bottom lip.

  


Keith groaned, nodding. “Yeah. You?”

  


“Me too,” Lance murmured with a little grin. He couldn't help himself as he started to rock his hips down against Keith’s, grinding their clothed erections together like some horny fifteen year-old kid. To his supreme pleasure, Keith moaned into his mouth and began to meet Lance’s rocking with an unabashed enthusiasm. A steady rhythm was established quickly. Desperate, rushed, and forceful, it messed with Lance’s already arousal-fogged brain like some sort of perfect drug. Lance registered a moan, the sound high and undignified, but couldn't identify who it came from.

  


“Unless you want me to cum in my pants,” Keith panted out against his lips, “maybe we should…  _ fuck-  _ maybe we should move this along.” 

  


“I dunno,” Lance chuckled, “that  _ would  _ be quite a sight.” Despite his words, he was already scooting back a little and bringing his hands to Keith's zipper. He licked his lips at the deliciously blatant tent in the man’s pants before unzipping it and sliding the material down to reveal military green boxers. With the red shirt and green underwear, Keith bore the colors of Christmas. And he was every single bit the perfect fucking present, laid out for him like some grand feast.

  


He worked the pants down Keith’s legs- seriously, even his goddamn  _ feet  _ were attractive- and dropped them on the floor before returning his attention to the wonderfully prominent swell in Keith’s boxers. His face hovered over it for a moment, dilated gaze flicking up to the shorter male’s face. Indigo locked with blue and he found that Keith’s gaze was almost reverent. Eyes appearing almost… loving.

  


And suddenly, it was too real.  _ God _ , this was the last thing Lance needed right now. To do something stupid like catch feelings for the beautiful boy panting needily on his bedsheets. 

  


Keith must have felt self-conscious under the prolonged stare because he was squirming slightly. Breaking the heated gaze to look off to some distant spot on the ceiling. And then Lance was feeling a harsh pang of desperation, craving to have those eyes watching him while he cracked their owner open and tore him apart.

  


He leaned down, eyes still fixed on Keith’s pretty face, and wrapped his mouth around the damp spot on the green boxers. Keith reacted  _ instantly _ , a loud groan torn out of his lips when Lance sucked hard. He continued to tease the man, his tongue dragging along the material in his mouth to taste more of the distinctly masculine flavor just dripping through the fabric from Keith’s aching dick. His hands slid up Keith’s toned abdomen, feeling up planes of pure muscle like some horny teenager, and came to rest at his nipples. He experimentally ran calloused thumbs over both of them simultaneously and was rewarded with a beautifully choked gasp, hips bucking upward and sweat-slicked shoulders driving back against the sheets to create an enticing arch of Keith’s back.

  


Lance groaned around the clothed length in his mouth. He let his hands linger on Keith's chest and tugged on the little nubs under his fingers until they were hard and Keith was writhing deliciously. The man’s face was already betraying him, thinly-veiled desperation present in the way Keith couldn't hold his gaze anymore and sin painted across the bottom lip tugged in between straight, pearly teeth. Had Keith ever had an awkward braces phase? He couldn’t help but wonder if the man’s teeth belonged in a toothpaste commercial because of genetics or a bomb ass dentist. And now he was getting sidetracked again. Keith brought him back with a gentle tug to his hair, running his hands through Lance’s short locks.

  


He pulled his hands back down to Keith’s boxers and finally decided to take them off. Lance began to slide the fabric down, eyes following the light trail of black, surprisingly soft hair leading down to his cock. He was rewarded with a pleasured groan and delighted in the fact that now  _ he  _ was the one who got to take his time, got to torture the man with slow drags of his fingers and prolonged movements.

  


But maybe he was wrong, because then Keith was demanding his attention with a seductive roll of his hips, silken and controlled, and capturing it completely with that same piercing gaze. Lance couldn't look away if he wanted to.

  


“I want you, Lance,” the man murmured, voice as sweet as sugar and as tempting as the devil himself.

  


Obviously, he couldn't restrain himself anymore. He tugged the green boxers down to reveal an iron-hard, leaking dick and his mind went absolutely blank because,  _ carajo,  _ even the man’s dick looked like it belonged on the cover of a magazine! Although he wasn't sure how people might react to that. A part of him thought the media wouldn't even care because Keith’s cock was just that goddamn good-looking.  _ Extra, extra! The world’s most mouth-watering dick has been identified and photographed for your viewing pleasure! _

  


He yanked the boxers off Keith’s legs and dropped them to the floor, a wave of heat making his own neglected shaft pulse. Reminding him that he was still wearing his pants and needed to discard them  _ now.  _ He sat up a little to clumsily shrug out of the clothing and he just knew that Keith could see how flustered he was because the man started to laugh, the sound quiet and lovely. He managed to get both his pants and his boxers off, leaving them both naked.  _ Finally. _

  


He hovered over Keith again, crawling forward to keep his mouth suspended above the boy’s aching length. He shot the man what he hoped came off as a confident smirk and smiled a bit when he heard the little hitch in his otherwise steady breathing.

  


“Eyes on me,” he murmured, “and don't take them off.” Lance felt the hipbone underneath his hand twitch in what he hoped was arousal. Keith looked wonderful when he was wrecked, dark eyelashes batting like a blushing bride and his plump lips quivering almost imperceptibly. Lance took a second to appreciate the view.

  


And then, without further ado, Lance McClain was leaning down to suck that dick into his mouth like the cockslut of the century.

  


Keith jerked as Lance took the head into his mouth, a hand coming to wrap around the base. Neither of them broke their intense eye contact, though Keith certainly came close. The man’s eyelashes fluttered and he visibly struggled to keep his eyes open. Lance groaned at the sight of his jaw slackening and his lips forming an “O”. And Lance would have thought the man was faking it because of how  _ porn-worthy  _ his sex face was, but his quiet pants and gasps and the way he couldn't stop rocking his hips told him otherwise.

  


Lance bobbed his head, taking Keith to the back of his throat and trying not to sputter and choke every time the male bucked his waist upward.

  


“Lance, mmm, fuck,” Keith breathed out, finally closing his eyes and letting his head roll back against the pillows. His hands were clenching around fistfuls of the blanket. Lance took his hand off the base of Keith’s dick and brought both back up to his nipples, teasing and rubbing over them. The man shuddered uncontrollably, a twisted moan wrenched from his throat.

  


“So  _ good _ , Lance,” the boy praised, his back arching lightly. Lance wanted to make him louder, unable to get enough of the way his name sounded in that wonderful voice. He let his hands drag hotly down Keith’s body, setting a steady and rapid pace with his mouth, and brought them down to Keith’s ass. He took control of the rhythm, pushing Keith’s hips up in time with the bobs of his head and groping at the ample, ridiculously soft butt in his palms. Keith gasped and the sound quickly dissolved into a long moan that was more pleasing to the ear than any song he'd ever heard. The man’s body relaxed completely, his hands still grabby at the sheets, and Lance figured that it was the closest thing he'd get to a surrender right now. Wanted to let the man be free to just gasp and writhe on his covers while Lance pleasured him into the next week.

  


Now Keith was letting out these pretty little “ah, ah, ah” sounds every once in awhile as Lance picked up the pace and dragged his tongue along the underside of his rigid cock. He couldn't help but start grinding his hips down against the bed, his own dick begging for some attention. 

  


Suddenly, Keith’s waist gave a sharp jerk upward, making Lance choke for a moment, and a rough hand darted to his hair to yank his face off of that wonderful cock.

  


Lance coughed into the crook of his arm, throat and jaw raw and aching from the blow job, and raised an eyebrow at Keith. “What was that for?” He asked, his voice hoarse and low.

  


“I don't want to cum yet,” the man mumbled, an arm slinging over his head to bring his flushed face to the inside of his elbow. Lance could hear the way the man could barely catch his breath and,  _ hell yeah,  _ Lance could totally dig this. Wanted to prolong Keith’s pleasure. To make him scream and really  _ feel  _ it before he could have his release.

  


“Mmm,” Lance hummed in both understanding and hot anticipation, pressing tiny kisses, nothing more than slight presses of lips, to his inner thighs and around his cock. Keith sighed pleasurably, the annoying arm covering Lance’s stunning view of that pale face returning to its proper spot at Keith’s side, white-knuckled fingers still gripping the bedsheets. The kisses grew rougher and rougher until he was sucking dark marks into the man’s thighs, making Keith writhe and moan. He left hickeys wherever he thought there was too much perfect pale skin, leaving them there for Keith to look at later and  _ remember him.  _ Keith was starting to choke on his breathing and make those same little desperate noises, so Lance finally relented.

  


“I'm going to take it a little slower, amor,” he breathed against the leaking dick in front of him, licking the underside slowly and watching Keith jerk in response.

  


“Yeah, yeah, okay,” the man answered roughly, obviously impatient as Lance started to press those same little kitten licks and kisses from earlier on the base of Keith’s length. And holy hell, the man seemed to get a kick out of this because he was letting more noise out from his swollen lips than he previously had been. Or maybe it was just that Lance had gotten him too sensitive; too worked up to maintain his composure. He preferred to think about the second option.

  


Lance worked his way down from Keith’s dick to his balls, laving and sucking gently as he left a white-hot trail of sensation in his wake. Keith was squirming now, gasping and rocking his hips down against his face. The Cuban boy didn't budge, keeping himself in check while Keith grinded down on his face like he was dying for it. Those teasing little kisses moved lower and lower. Keith’s hands were clenching around and releasing the sheets erratically until,  _ finally,  _ they were moving up to clutch at Lance’s hair instead. 

  


He hadn't even been touched and he was positively  _ burning _ , his palms spreading thick, pale, creamy thighs apart to further display the erotic sight set out just for him.

  


“ _ Lance _ ,” Keith crooned, his voice as soft as a prayer, and Lance decided that he  _ had to _ give this guy as much pleasure as he could take and  _ then some _ .

  


He descended down from Keith’s balls to lick a hot stripe up the entrance to his ass and, immediately, Keith was arching his back into the sensation and tightening his grip on Lance’s hair.

  


_ “Ah!  _ Oh  _ god!”  _ Keith  _ wailed _ . And, fucking  _ hell _ , he couldn't get enough. Wouldn't  _ ever  _ get enough of the beautiful stranger currently rutting against his tongue like a dog in heat. Needed to hear more, to feel him fall apart and follow him along into that sweet, blissful escape.

  


He started to lick repeatedly at the twitching hole in front of him, eliciting more delectable moans and shouts from his partner. And Lance was just  _ aching  _ to know- had Keith ever been rimmed before? Ever been eaten out so good it made him  _ shake?  _ He really wanted to ask but wasn't willing to move his tongue from the man’s asshole. Wouldn't stop for a million dollars.

  


“I'm- gah, it's so  _ good _ , what the-  _ fuck!”  _ the man gasped out. Lance’s gaze shifted to try to focus on the male’s face and he could barely make out the shiny gleam of tear tracks on his face. And if that didn't make his cock drip messily into the mattress he was  _ still  _ humping like an animal, he didn't know what did. The thought that he was making Keith  _ sob  _ from pleasure made his whole body tingle pleasantly.

  


He ignored the little ache in his jaw as he started to circle the man’s entrance with his tongue, prodding and sucking and laving and  _ exploring _ . He was quickly finding out which particular movements or flicks of his tongue made Keith shout and squirm like a helpless virgin and he exploited the knowledge to the absolute fullest. Lance shuddered when thick, trembling thighs clamped shut around his head to hold him in place. He brought his hands up to hold onto the pale flesh, grounding himself and pulling Keith closer.

  


“Shit, _shit,_ I'm getting close!” He keened, letting out a choked sob as the Cuban male actually licked _into_ his entrance, warm, velvety walls tight around his tongue.

  


Keith was growing desperate at this point, forcibly pushing Lance’s face further against his ass and rocking against his it like a madman. The sounds in the room were positively  _ pornographic _ . The hot, sloppy way Lance was eating the shorter man out created these dirty, wet, kissing noises that made his head spin. More than that, though, Keith was fucking  _ loud.  _ He was gasping for air now, not bothering to restrict pleasured shouts and sobs and  _ pleas _ .

  


He dug his fingers harder into the pale thighs wrapped around his head, shoving Keith’s legs apart and pulling the cheeks of his ass open so he could continue driving his tongue deeper and deeper. And, boy oh boy, his new buddy definitely appreciated the gesture.

  


“ _Fuck!”_ A hand released Lance’s hair and flew to Keith’s dick. Lance’s scalp tingled a little as the man he was tongue-deep inside started to jerk off hastily. Lance kind of wanted to deny him the luxury of his own hand, to give him an orgasm just by eating him out _that well._ And yeah, maybe he was a little high (okay- _very_ high) on lust just then, but that idea was sounding better and better as his partner approached his release.

  


Before he could talk himself out of it, Lance moved one hand from Keith’s perfect ass to grab onto his wrist instead. Pinned the hand on his dick down to the mattress and retracted his tongue from Keith’s hole.

  


“What? No, no, I was so  _ close,”  _ Keith cried out. Lance pulled his face back a little, leaning up to look at a not-so-mildly irritated Keith. 

  


“I wanna make you cum with my tongue alone,” he told the man, surprised by how steady and sure he sounded. Keith’s annoyed expression morphed into the same, blatant arousal from before, his jaw dropping a little.

  


“Okay,” Keith squeaked,  _ actually squeaked,  _ and he brought both hands to the edge of the bed above his head, clutching onto the sheets under his fingers with red cheeks and blown out pupils. Lance felt heat pool straight to his gut at the sight, getting a lewd mental picture of the man tied up and at his mercy. He would seriously need to go to church after all this. The thought of Abuela clutching her blue rosary- and  _ fuck,  _ why was he thinking about his grandma when Keith Kogane’s legs were spread out just for him? When his chest was rising and falling rapidly from pure, unadulterated  _ need? _ He lowered his mouth back down to Keith’s ass, his lips brushing against his entrance.

  


_ “ _ Be good for me _ ,”  _ he drawled against his hole before diving back into the fray. Keith actually  _ screamed _ , quickly clamping down on his bottom lip to stay semi-quiet while Lance worked back up to the sexy rhythm from before. He pulled Keith’s ass cheeks apart again, sucking hard over his entrance before stiffening his tongue and pushing it in and out of the man.

  


“Ah, ah, _ hah,  _ I need-  _ fuck!”  _ Keith slurred, his head lolling backward and his ass gyrating on Lance’s tongue, and there was no way for him to be silent anymore. The pale hands pinning themselves to the top of the bed were fluttering, shifting wildly in their attempt to stay still. The Cuban male lowered his hands a bit and promptly slung Keith’s legs over his shoulders so he could get a better angle, immediately starting to knead the creamy thighs in his hands.

  


Fucking Jesus, Lance was so impossibly  _ hard _ . He forced himself to stop rubbing his hips against the bed, not wanting to face even the  _ threat _ of coming yet. He needed to take care of Keith first. Needed to unravel him. Said man was crying out desperately, his breathing erratic as he babbled unintelligibly. It was obvious that the slow, deliberate buildup had really taken a toll on Keith. Apparent in the way his previous reservations had dissipated in the warm air, leaving him raw and unashamed.

  


_ “Don't stop _ , please- Lance! Shit, ah, you're so  _ good  _ Lance, I need it, I n-need  _ you _ , oh  _ god don't fucking stop!” _ And Lance didn't want to. Never wanted to. He grew sloppier, his tongue dragging messily around and over his entrance before plunging back into the spit-slicked, tight heat in front of him. Licked the man’s asshole like his life  _ depended _ on it.

  


_ “Fuck, I'm gonna-!”  _ Keith choked out, and Lance took a gargantuan gamble by lifting a hand to harshly smack the man’s ass while he drove his tongue inside of him _ hard. _

  


Keith shattered, screaming as he thrashed in Lance’s hold. The man came untouched all over himself, the slope of his spine created by the legs slung over Lance’s shoulders causing thick, hot ropes of cum to shoot all over his pale chest. 

  


Lance worked him through the orgasm, lapping at his entrance languidly while his hands massaged Keith’s ass patiently and, fuck, before he knew it, the guy had already been trembling through his climax for almost a full minute.

  


“Keith?” He asked, pulling his mouth back from the man’s entrance. Lance set his legs down on the bed gently, chuckling a little when Keith groaned and covered his face with his forearm, still trembling lightly.

  


“That was way too good, what the actual hell,” the man mumbled, shaking his head. Lance grinned, choosing to ignore his own pulsing erection to flop down on the bed next to him and run slightly sweaty fingers through black hair.

  


“With me it's always that good, baby,” Lance purred and Keith actually snorted.

  


“I don't even want to know how many people you've done…  _ that  _ to…” Keith trailed, bringing a finger to wipe the stray cum that had landed on his chin with disgust evident on his face, and  _ why was that so hot? _

  


Keith seemed to remember Lance’s predicament and gazed down at his dick with a  _ look.  _ Lance couldn't tell whether he spotted arousal or even amusement in that gaze, but it was way too mischievous for his liking, too knowing.

  


“Hey, Lance?”

  


“Hm?”

  


“Why don't you let me show you what I can do now?”

  


_ Fuck.  _ Fucking shit on a stick. Goddamn motherfucking cinnamon tits. Holy balls. Lance swore his boner just grew a couple impossible inches.

  


“Okay,” he croaked out, the sound a little convoluted as he tried not to cum right then and there. Keith chuckled before sitting up and swinging a leg over Lance’s waist. The man sat on his stomach, facing him, and leaned down to kiss him. And Lance supposed Keith didn't care that he'd been eating the booty like a bowl of Froot Loops because the kiss was  _ deep _ , tongues curling together and teeth carelessly scraping against lips. And then Keith was shifting backward and sitting  _ on his dick.  _ He started to roll his hips like he was goddamn  _ Shakira _ , staring heatedly at Lance while he gyrated his hips in teasing little circles that were making him want to scream in frustration. He groaned instead, his hands coming to rest at Keith’s sides.

  


“You gonna help me out a little, gorgeous?” Keith smirked, leaning down to kiss him seductively. Lance moaned into his mouth and brought a hand to hold Keith’s head in place, tangling fingers in soft black hair. His other hand reached to the side and he scrambled for his bedside table, yanking a drawer open and blindly rummaging through its contents for a small, half used bottle of lube. He wrapped his fingers around the bottle triumphantly, lips still attached to Keith’s, and pulled it out to place it on top of the nightstand. 

  


“Condom?” He managed to breathe out against swollen lips.

  


“Nah, as long as you’re clean, I prefer not using them,” Keith responded roughly, teeth skimming against his neck.

  


Lance moaned loudly and fumbled to get a few pumps of the slick lube on his right hand, coating three fingers with the substance while Keith continued to grind in his lap and nip at his neck.

  


“Can you lean up a little-” Lance started, not even having to finish because Keith was moving forward, straddling his body by shifting onto his hands and knees on top of Lance. The maneuver left his perfect ass in the air and ready for the taking. Keith leaned his face down so it was within Lance’s reach and he immediately took advantage of the position once again. Lips clashed together, tongues curling around each other in a slick, hot dance that reminded him vaguely of the slip n’ slides he'd play on at parties as a kid. Lance slid his left hand down the curve of Keith’s warm back, rounding out his palm on his round ass. He massaged the flesh in his hand while his other hand guided a lube-slicked finger to tease and prod at Keith’s entrance.

  


“Shit,” Keith mumbled seemingly to himself, pulling back from the kiss. Lance looked into hooded eyes as he guided the first digit into that sinfully  _ tight  _ hole, his own jaw dropping slightly at how he could practically feel Keith pulsing around his finger. The man hovering inches above him was faring no better, his eyes shut and lips pressed into a tight line. 

  


“You good?” Lance breathed out rather unsexily, captivated by the little wrinkle that had appeared in the center of Keith’s forehead with the strain. He stilled the finger that was knuckle deep into the boy’s asshole, observing and trying to discern the emotions filtering through the gorgeous face in front of him.

  


“Fine,” he gritted out, “just don’t stop.” Lance was nothing if not a gentleman and he granted the request, his jaw slack with arousal as he pumped the finger into the man in a slow, hot drag. Keith dropped his head down into the crook of Lance’s neck, letting out quiet pants and the occasional, glorious whine. Soon, he was rutting back against Lance’s finger, face finally relaxing. 

  


“Another,” he demanded, eyes closed. “Add another f-finger.” Lance bit his lip at the sexy command, working another thick finger alongside the other one and feeling a hint of sadistic pleasure at the way Keith’s face contorted, his head dropping down closer to Lance’s own. The man was breathing hard and Lance couldn’t get enough of the way his eyebrows furrowed and his lips parted cutely.

  


“You look so good like this,” Lance murmured, turned on to the point of no return.

  


“Thanks,” the man laughed breathlessly as the burn gave way to pleasure, eyes fluttering open to reveal a playful gaze. “I know.” Keith closed the distance between their faces, capturing his mouth with way too much seduction emanating from the way he sucked on Lance’s bottom lip. A moan rang out into the dark room- neither male was sure who it came from- as Keith deepened the kiss. He rolled back on Lance’s fingers, as steady and strong as waves crashing against a shore. Soon, they had worked up to another finger and Keith was forced to pull back, ebony bangs obscuring his eyes as he hung his head low and moaned against Lance’s collarbone.

  


“Hanging in there?” Lance questioned, mesmerized by the gentle rocking of Keith’s body.

  


“Mmm.. yeah, I’m… ah, I’m good,” he mumbled. The man was distracted by the fullness inside of him, absently licking and nipping at the warm, tanned skin below his mouth. Jesus fuck, Keith was already panting and writhing and Lance hadn’t even aimed for his prostate yet. He curled his fingers downward once, twice-

  


“ _ Lance!” _

  


Ah, there it was. 

  


He didn’t ease up on the pressure, immediately hooked on the man’s sweet cry of pleasure, and started rubbing the pads of his fingers down against the spot that was making his new lover yell out his name like he was a fucking god.

  


Keith had ascended to some higher state of being, arching back against the merciless assault and shouting against Lance’s neck.

  


“Ah,  _ Lance, L-Lance, slow down or I’m gonna-hah, ah, Lance!” _

  


Lance couldn’t find it in himself to stop, twisting and curling and prodding until he felt Keith’s body tense up on top of him, his head tossed back and his mouth gaping, only  _ seconds  _ away from his climax. Then, only then, did he pause his attack and slowly withdraw the fingers from the boy’s ass. 

  


“ _ You fucking dick,”  _ Keith shouted, eyes blazing as they snapped open, “ _ again?!”  _ The man was trembling from the denied orgasm and his cock was hanging, hard and heavy, right above Lance’s abdomen. “Do you have some sort of goddamn fetish for taking a century to let your partner cum?!”

  


Lance couldn’t help a boyish snicker. “Yeah, I guess I just like making pretty boys like you beg,” he hummed.

  


Now this… this is where Lance began to realize his mistake. In hindsight, he should have  _ known _ that Keith wouldn’t be so easy to tame. Hell, he should have realized by the fire in his eyes that he couldn’t really be tamed at all.

  


Keith paused, stunned by the answer, and let silence overtake them for a few moments. Without bothering to answer the remark or address the flush creeping up on his face, he sat up, shifting backward and taking Lance’s iron-hard dick in his hand and positioning it smoothly under his ass. Without missing a beat or removing his eyes from Lance’s, he sank down on the length, slowly impaling himself.

  


Lance… Lance couldn’t even form a coherent thought. At this point, he wasn’t sure who was fucking who or which way was up or even what his goddamn name was. All he knew was  _ Keith.  _ Sweat-slicked skin resting against his own as the man bottomed out. Fire enveloping his shaft and walls of velvet pulsing around him in time with the man’s racing heart. Piercing eyes staring down at him. Lance could make out the intensity, the  _ fire _ , held in those violet orbs even through hooded eyelids and the heavy darkness.

  


And then Keith started to move.

  


Lance felt like he was drugged, everything moving too slow yet so,  _ so  _ fast. He brought his hands to Keith’s hips, feeling the tension pulled tight under pale skin. He gently guided the man up and down a little faster, a shudder wracking his entire body when a ruined moan was wrenched out of Keith’s lips.

  


“God, you’re so  _ deep,”  _ he gasped, placing warm hands on Lance’s chest as he undulated over his cock. “Haven’t been…  _ ah _ \- fucked like t-this in a while-  _ mmh…” _ The words certainly weren’t helping Lance’s case and he had no option but to start moving his own hips, thrusting upward in time with Keith’s bouncing.

  


“This is gonna be over pretty quick if you keep talking like that, kitten,” he growled out, pleasantly surprised once again by how deep his voice sounded. Keith’s pace stuttered immediately and Lance watched him gasp for air, back arching at the words. And,  _ shit,  _ Lance wanted to hit himself in the face! He’d totally forgotten about Keith’s blatant love of dirty talk and the way the man reacted to his pet names.

  


“Mm, you like that, baby?” He purred, sounding infinitely more confident than he felt and watching Keith bounce in his lap. “Like when I fuck you like this? When I call you my kitten?”

  


“Shit, ah,  _ damn it,”  _ Keith swore, red-faced and losing grip of his composure as he continued to work himself up and down on Lance’s dick. As a petty act of revenge, Keith moved his hands to the Cuban boy’s nipples, rubbing the pads of his thumbs over them and smirking at the loud groan he received in return. That quickly escalated into a sort of snowball effect, each male trying to get a leg up over the other. Lance pulled Keith down forcefully instead of letting him guide the pace like before, essentially stripping him of any control. In return, Keith promptly trapped the man’s wrists in his own hands and shoved them back against the mattress, leaning forward to keep his hands pinned above his head. This left Keith leaning over the man, his head hanging above Lance’s to look down into blown-out pupils.

  


“What the fuck-  _ Keith, _ ” he groaned, hips bucking upward. Said male writhed on top of him, still grinding down with the same rushed pace from before.

  


“I’m showing you that-  _ oh, fuck!”  _ His sentence dissolved into an incoherent string of moans as the new angle allowed Lance to strike his prostate dead-center again and again and again. Neither of them could orient themselves enough to change their positions or manage any other remarks, both too focused on meeting the other’s brutal thrusts to occupy their time with anything else.

  


_ “Lance, Lance, god- ah, ah, so f-fucking close,”  _ Keith gasped from above him, his nails biting into the skin on Lance’s chest as he chased his climax. 

  


Lance figured that there was a pretty significant chance (sadly enough) that he’d never see this beautiful, wild, drop-dead  _ amazing  _ stranger ever again. Why shouldn’t he give it his all and make the man remember him? Using up his last reserves of energy, Lance pushed the hands pinning his wrists to the bed up and off of him, swiftly sitting up before managing to twist his body and lean down so that Keith was falling flat on his back. Lance ended up straddling him on the bed and mentally congratulated himself for completing the feat without ever having pulled out. The action was worth it for the way Keith’s lust-darkened eyes widened, his bitten lips parting. He didn’t give that pretty mouth a chance to utter a single word, leaning down to kiss him with all the desperation and forcefulness in the world while he started to pound the male down into the sheets. 

  


Keith was barely able to maintain the filthy kiss, his head tossing as his body arched and trembled and squirmed under the ministrations. Lance was all too happy to pull back, choosing to watch Keith’s expression as he neared his final climax. He felt a distinct surge of pride upon feasting his eyes on the man.  _ Lance  _ did this,  _ Lance  _ was the one who wrecked this stunning creature and made him scream. As if on cue with his thoughts, it was then that Lance coincidentally swung his hips forward to aim at  _ that spot _ , slamming into his prostate once more. Keith screamed out his name, arms and legs darting up to wrap around Lance’s sweaty form to hold on while the foundations of his entire  _ universe  _ were shaken. Lance groaned loudly against his ear, shivering when he felt fingernails scratch lines down his back once more.

  


_ “Lance, please, ah, ah, I need it, want it so bad,”  _ Keith sobbed out as Lance rocked into him faster and faster. His entire body was taut and trembling with the impending orgasm. Lance could feel him clenching down around his dick, only moments away from burning ecstasy. He couldn’t resist one final pleasure, a little something to add the icing on the cake to the endless store of fantasy material stored away in his head from the night. He figured he’d want the memory for many dates with his right hand to come.

  


" _ God, aren't you a greedy little kitten? Squirming and writhing under me like that, screaming my name at the top of your lungs. You want to cum, baby? Do it. You’ve been desperate for it all night, cum for me _ ." 

  


The words, it seemed, were the final push needed to launch Keith into his orgasm. And,  _ boy,  _ was it something to witness. Lance kept slamming into him through the climax, struggling to keep his eyes open as Keith screamed and writhed and sobbed, shooting hot cum all over both of their abdomens. He clawed at Lance’s back, clenching hard around him and guiding him along to his own finish. Lance could barely enjoy the breathtaking sight before he was dragged after Keith into the depths of ecstasy, shouting the man’s name as he pumped his hips and filled him up with cum.

  


And… fuck, he couldn’t even describe it. Knew that no words could articulate just how mind-shattering the pleasure was, how he felt like he was burning alive and being pulled apart and meshed back together all at once. He felt like he was endlessly falling, blazing through the atmosphere without being quite sure of whether he was going up or down. 

  


It was a religious experience, he knew, but shoved the thought aside to reflect on later because right then they were both finally coming down from the glorious high and Keith was shifting under him, panting loudly. He couldn’t find it in him to care about the various bodily fluids covering them both, too sated and satisfied with the tingly bliss running lazily through him.

  


“You’re crushing me,” Keith muttered hoarsely against his shoulder, making Lance realize that, at some point, he’d stopped bothering to hold himself up and had collapsed on top of the smaller male. He didn’t bother apologizing, just pulling out of him slowly with a drawn out groan before rolling to the side.

  


“So… how was that?” Lance asked after a moment of content silence, self-satisfaction evident in the gleam of straight teeth in the dark and the happy note to his voice. Keith just reached up to lightly flick his forehead, making Lance cry out indignantly.

  


“You already know the answer to that question, idiot,” he mumbled. “Now can we take a shower or something? We’re filthy.” Lance chuckled, pulling Keith close and wrapping his arms around him.

  


“Just go to bed, Keith,” he murmured gently, voice soothing and awfully persuasive. “We can take care of everything else in the morning. Right now you should rest.” Keith frowned, and Lance could tell that he hated how his own smooth tone was begging to be listened to. The black-haired male’s body was already doing that for him, eyelids growing heavy and his spent body relaxing under Lance’s warm arms. 

  


“We’re going to hate this in the morning,” he yawned. Lance had an inkling of a notion that the man wrapped up in his hold didn’t allow himself to enjoy the comfort of others very often. It was evident in the way Keith didn’t quite know what to do with his arms and couldn’t stop shifting his face against the pillow.

  


“Relax, just go to sleep,” He goaded, reaching a hand up to stroke through Keith’s hair. Now  _ that  _ had an effect. The man slumped back into the touch, a soft sigh spilling from pink lips.

  


“Night, Lance.”

  


“Buenas noches, cariño. Que tengas dulces sueños.”

  


* * *

  


Keith stirred from a dreamless sleep sometime during the early morning. The first thing he was aware of was the fact that he was hot.  _ Too _ hot. The thick blankets, the firm body pressed against his back, and the heavy arm slung over him all contributed to the fact that his naked skin was drenched in sweat and… other things.

  


Keith groaned to himself, gently moving the stiflingly warm arm off of him and shifting to sit at the edge of the comfortable bed. Lance gave a quiet noise of protest in his sleep, mumbling to himself before settling back down with a pillow clutched to his chest instead of Keith. He turned around to look at the glass doors behind him and wasn't surprised to see that the sun was still rising bright and hot over Lance’s tiny balcony. The brightness made his throbbing head pulse even more intensely.

  


“More than three hours of sleep,” he mumbled sarcastically to himself, “not bad at all.” He rose to his feet with a grimace at the deep ache radiating from his hips and ass before taking another long, hard look at Lance. 

  


The man really was beautiful. He looked positively incandescent, seeming to glow under the soft sunlight falling upon his warm skin. His face was genuinely  _ pretty,  _ long eyelashes and a ski slope nose only adding to his attractiveness. It looked as if Keith had somehow bunched the entirety of the blankets onto his side of the bed during the night, because Lance wasn't under any. Instead, his broad, sun kissed back and tousled hair were perfectly visible. Keith felt a guilty sense of pleasure at the sight of dark red blotches scattered around his neck, forcing himself to turn away with a ghost of a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. 

  


He looked around and quickly determined that the condo was absolutely  _ tiny.  _ There was absolutely no privacy; Lance’s bedroom had no wall separating it from the living room and, in turn, the kitchen. Instead, there was a wooden railing at the edge of the room and a set of stairs that led down into the compact living room. Another short set of stairs led from the living room down to the kitchen and, from there, it was only a few steps to the front door. It was a rather modern apartment, he supposed, taking a liking to the open area.

  


Keith felt only a little stalkerish as he stood up and looked at the little picture frames and polaroids hung up on a wall the color of his old jeans. He found Hunk in some of them, but the photographs mostly featured little brown kids and adults alike that Keith could only assume were Lance’s family. Who else would have those same pairs of sparkling eyes? 

  


He gave Lance one last fleeting look before bending down with a groan to retrieve his dirty clothes from the floor. He shamefully slipped into the articles of clothing, wincing at the distinct smell of booze and sex.

  


With that, he walked down the stairs to Lance’s small living room. He immediately noticed the gleaming guitars hung up on the wall above his leather couch. He had four, one acoustic and three electrics, as well as an obvious gap in the display. Keith remembered that there was another acoustic guitar currently in Hunk’s possession.

  


Keith continued on down the steps into the small kitchenette and looked casually around the space. His eyes settled on a framed picture on the granite counter of a shirtless Lance (quite a lovely sight) carrying a pretty, blonde girl on his back. The two were covered in multicolored paint and Keith realized that they must have been at some sort of festival. For some reason, the photo made him feel vaguely unwelcome and he remembered that he was just a one-night stand. A hookup. He didn't have the right to go prying into Lance’s personal life.

  


Keith wouldn't be able to admire the little freckles on the bridge of his nose or the way his broad shoulders and chest tapered off into a slim waist, nor would he be allowed to kiss soft, warm lips or run his hand through short brown locks.

  


He was surprisingly un-okay with that as he finally forced himself to open Lance’s front door and slip out of it. It shut behind him quietly. Keith quickly moved his hands to check his pockets, relieved to find his keys, wallet, and phone somehow still tucked safely inside of them. He pulled his phone out and scrolled through his short list of contacts before clicking on the little telephone icon under Pidge’s name.

  


“Hello?” A sleepy voice croaked after a couple rings.

  


“Pidge? I need you to come pick me up,” he instructed, bouncing on the balls of his  feet. “I'm only a few minutes away from the dorm.”

  


“What? Keith, it's not even eight yet,” the girl responded. Keith could hear the exhaustion in her tone and felt a small wave of guilt.

  


“I know. Sorry. I can, uh… actually, I can walk from here-”

  


“Don't be ridiculous. Send me an address. I'll be there in ten and take you out for pancakes or something.” Keith felt gratitude and affection for Katie wash over him.

  


“Thanks,” he murmured, hoping she could hear the sincerity in his tone. “I can tell you all about my hot one-night stand at breakfast.”

  


“ _ Holy fuck, that's right! I can't believe-” _

  


“ _ Goodbye _ , Katie,” he laughed.

  


“ _ You actually went home with-”  _ Keith ended the call with a fond smile. 

  


He was quickly forced to come to terms that he had only six percent battery on his phone and that he was stranded temporarily outside Lance’s house. He sighed and took a seat (with only a slight flinch) on the concrete floor, leaning against the brick wall next to the man’s front door. 

  


Five minutes into the wait, the bright blue door on the wall next to Lance’s apartment entrance opened with a creak. The girl from Lance’s photograph popped out, blonde hair wrapped up in a neat bun on her head. She was wearing a red crop top and tiny jean shorts that showed off her slim figure. Keith blinked in surprise and she seemed to do the same, looking down at him.

  


“Hi,” he greeted flatly.

  


“Hey… Is there any specific reason you're sitting out here at…” she paused, pulling a phone in a bright pink case out to check the time, “7:47 in the morning?” The girl locked her door before turning back to him.

  


Keith was nothing short of hungover. His head was pulsing and he knew he smelled like a bar. Or a wet animal. Maybe like a drunk raccoon that had taken a swim? 

  


Whatever. He was unlikely to ever see this chick again, right?

  


“Are you Lance’s girlfriend?” He asked suddenly.

  


“What? No.”

  


“Well, in that case, I’m sitting out here because I slept with him last night and now I'm waiting for my ride,” he told her bluntly. The woman laughed loudly, a pleasant sound.

  


“Really? He didn't offer you breakfast or anything? I'm Nyma, by the way.”

  


“Keith. And I didn't wait around for him to wake up.”

  


“What? That's an asshole move,” she answered, stepping forward to lean against the wall next to him. Thankfully, the woman didn't comment about his appearance or probable smell. Keith was pretty grateful for the company. “Lance is pretty thorough when it comes to one-night stands. He would have probably treated you to eggs and bacon or something if you’d have let him. He likes to cook.”

  


“Does he?” Keith shrugged. “I'm not really the type of guy to stick around longer than I have to.” He rubbed his temple, leaning back against the bricks.

  


“Did you even exchange phone numbers?”

  


“No. Is there some sort of sex etiquette manual I should read?” He looked up at her. Nyma let out a quiet giggle, shaking her head. 

  


“You're hopeless. You know, you're pretty cute, I'm sure Lance is going to be devastated to wake up to an empty bed.”

  


“I don't really have time for a relationship right now,” he mused.

  


“Well, how was it?” Nyma asked.

  


“Huh?”

  


“The sex. Was it good?”

  


“Probably the best I’ve had,” Keith admitted with a clipped chuckle as Nyma laughed sweetly, “ but I don't want to lead him on or anything,” he added just as Pidge’s yellow Beetle drove up to the curb. He had originally hated the obnoxiously loud car the minute he'd laid eyes on it, but now felt a small wave of gratitude for both the yellow monstrosity and Katie for actually showing up so early in the morning.

  


“That's my ride,” he sighed.

  


“It was cool talking to you, Keith. Maybe I'll see you around sometime.” Her tinted pink lips stretched out into a warm smile and a manicured hand extended down to pull Keith to his feet. She smelled like expensive, floral perfume.

  


“Maybe. Bye, Nyma,” he answered back amicably before walking around to the passenger’s seat of the car. Pidge rolled down her window, dressed in a pair of bright pink pjs with cats littered over the fabric. She waved at Nyma and the girl chuckled before greeting her back, walking away down the sidewalk.

  


“Nice outfit,” Keith commented as he shut the car door behind him.

  


“Shut up. I figured that IHOP doesn't care what I look like this fucking early. I'm going to make you talk, Kogane, and it's going to be  _ good.” _

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, I'm actually alive! Firstly, I'm so sorry for the huge wait! Hurricane Irma hit us pretty bad down here in Miami and I was too distracted with getting back into the swing of things to post. After things normalized again, I kept putting this chapter off because I just couldn't seem to get it done. I finally sat down and finished it recently (I'm not even gonna edit because I know this shit won't ever be uploaded if I do) and found motivation to keep on writing again! I hope you enjoyed this long ass porn; please leave me a comment and let me know what you did or didn't like! It's always a pleasure to get feedback. Be on the lookout for another update coming soon :)


	3. No Running From Me

Time flew in The Magic City. The rapid passage of time wasn't made known to Keith by clocks or classes or events, but instead by how quickly he was working through the stockpile of his disposable contacts. He'd come to Miami with half a box left for each eye, the rough equivalent of a month’s worth of the lenses. On one particular Tuesday morning, he emptied the remainder of both boxes into his bathroom drawer to find that he only had a few days of contacts left. Running out meant having to wear the thick-rimmed, awful pair of black glasses that he'd gotten at a drugstore three years ago. The other alternative was wearing neither the contacts nor the glasses, but that meant not being able to see clearly for more than a couple inches in front of him. 

 

He’d been living off ten years’ worth of birthday money from Shiro, cash he got from buying old motor parts and refurbishing them for resale, and (sadly enough) the money Pidge would lend him with the demand that he got off the couch and “actually met people for once.” If it weren’t for student loans and the people over at Shining Futures, a charity that financially helped orphans who didn’t have money to go to college, he wouldn’t even be in Miami. Hell, it wasn’t even as if he really needed the money. His meager income was used for the essentials- food, housing, and coffee.

 

The depressing contents of his wallet would barely suffice for his next order of Kung Pao chicken and it was most certainly not enough for a $500 shipment of new contact lenses.

 

That left him in his current predicament.

 

He stood behind the counter of the bakery section of Publix with a clean apron around his neck, the terrible pair of glasses perched on his nose, and a ridiculous looking hairnet holding his hair back. Keith minded his own business, selling breads, cookies, and other delicious shit to paying customers. It was only fifteen minutes until the end of his shift and he was looking forward to the moment when he could clock out of the store to get on with his day (and finally finish the latest season of Stranger Things). When life gives you lemons, right? Sadly, life had a way of taking its lemons back before he could make his goddamn lemonade.

 

“We should write, ‘happy birthday, suck a cock’ on it. No, no, maybe, ‘congrats on quitting crystal meth’! Or should we go classic and write ‘nobody loves you’?” 

 

Keith swore he recognized that voice. He peered over the counter to try to get a glimpse of the man behind the refrigerated cake display case to his left.

 

“Honestly, he’d probably like it,” another familiar, feminine voice answered. “He’s got a messed up sense of humor too.”

 

“So, ‘nobody loves you’ it is?” Keith heard a fond giggle.

 

“Sure, Lance.”

 

Lance?...  _ Lance. _ Keith’s eyes widened as a vivid mental picture of said man panting and groaning atop him flashed across his mind. He didn’t have time to orient himself because Nyma and Lance were pushing a shopping cart filled with junk food into his line of vision. 

 

“Should we get chocolate or...” Lance’s words trailed off and his pretty lips parted in surprise as his eyes met Keith’s. There were a few seconds of stunned silence and neither boys could take their gaze off the other.

 

Keith’s memory helpfully supplied a slideshow of images: Lance grinding hotly against him, those strong arms lifting him up, that filthy mouth and the way it whispered melted chocolate praises into his ear. 

 

“Fuck,” he deadpanned.

 

“Hi again, Keith,” Nyma greeted without missing a beat, waving with dainty fingers.

 

Lance’s grunting and panting still resounded in his mind like an obnoxious song that you can’t help but love even after hearing it thirty times in a row.

 

“Hey,” he blurted, finally tearing his eyes away to look at the woman. “Uh, what can I get you guys?”

 

Keith’s gaze, as if drawn by some weird magnetic force, instantly shifted to Lance again. He was wearing a “Suns Out, Guns Out” muscle tank and Keith was willing to overlook the blatant lack of an apostrophe on “suns” for the way the shirt showed off Lance’s built, freckled biceps. He also noticed that Lance was growing his hair out a little, wavy locks of brown spilling out over his forehead. Fucking Jesus, how could the boy have gotten even  _ more  _ attractive over the course of just a few weeks? As if Lance knew what he was thinking, the man just had to go and ruin it all.

 

“That’s all I get?,” Lance responded in a shrill tone, interrupting his own thoughts as anger contorted his pretty features, “A, _ ‘what can I get you guys?’  _ What the fuck, Keith?” Keith opened his mouth to respond, but was quickly shut up again.

 

“An incredible night of what I thought was the most  _ mind blowing sex ever  _ and you can’t even bother to wake me up the next morning to tell me that you weren’t into me?”

 

“ _ Shhh! _ Lower your voice, idiot!” Keith hissed at the man, cheeks flaming and eyes blazing. He watched Lance’s eyes widen in visible shock at being called out. “Do you want to get me fucking fired? My manager is right there!” He pointed angrily to the side where the manager of the bakery, a small and pleasant girl named Melanie, was sticking trays into giant ovens.

 

“Maybe I do,” Lance answered petulantly, crossing his arms. “Dickbags who don’t bother to leave their phone numbers don’t deserve nice things!”

 

“I had no fucking obligation to-“

 

“Now, now, why don’t we all calm down a little?” Nyma chuckled, and her voice smoothed over the frayed edges of Keith’s nerves. He found himself relaxing. The tension in his forearms where he’d been holding himself up (in case he needed to leap over the counter to kick some ass) slowly seeped away.

 

“I’m perfectly calm, Nyma,” Lance huffed. Keith exchanged an exasperated glance with her.

 

“You were two seconds away from climbing over the counter to bash Keith’s head in.” She was met with silence. “Let’s just start over, shall we? Hi,” she paused to look at Keith’s brand new name tag, “Mr. Kogane, we’d like to order a cake.” Keith rolled his eyes and instantly felt bad about it as Nyma clicked her tongue in disapproval. He sighed heavily.

 

“That’s fine with me. Do you know what cake you want?” He responded, easily ignoring a slack-jawed and annoyingly beautiful Lance. Nyma turned backward toward the man and raised a questioning eyebrow. There were a few heartbeats of silence as Lance’s gaze reluctantly swept across the cakes in the display case.

 

“Chocolate,” he muttered, raising his chin and facing away from them like a haughty child.

 

“Chocolate,” Nyma repeated pleasantly, “we’ll have that chocolate cake right there.” Keith nodded and bent down to open up the sliding glass door on the back of the cake counter, reaching into the freezing container to pull out the fudge-trimmed dessert with gloved hands.

 

“Anything else?” Nyma shook her head. “That’ll be $12.99. Do you want me to write something on it with frosting?”

 

As Nyma reached into her purse for her wallet, Lance piped up. “Write, ‘I put pot in this’.” 

 

Keith blinked at him. Then he blinked again.

 

“Seriously?”

 

Lance folded his arms, fixing him with a glare. “Do I look serious to you?”

 

“I… I mean, all right,” Keith mused, “but I personally prefer the whole ‘nobody loves you’ thing.” He was rewarded with a twist of Lance’s frown, the edges of his lips turning upward into an amused grin. In the back of his mind, Keith faintly registered Nyma walking off to browse some other desserts.

 

“You think so? All right, let’s go with that one,” he nodded, tapping long, tan fingers on the counter. Keith gave an affirming hum and reached for the pipe bag of frosting. 

 

“Is blue fine?”

 

“Blue’s my favorite color,” Lance answered with that same little half-smile. Keith flicked his gaze up to admire it for a totally-not-gay amount of time before returning his eyes to the cake. Within a couple moments, ‘nobody loves you’ was written beautifully on the cake, its elegant appearance completely contradicting the message. Keith wanted to pat himself on the back for the job well done.

 

“Hey, this looks pretty great! Thanks a lot, Mullet- oh wait, you have it in a hairnet… what am I supposed to call you now?”

 

“Uh, I dunno, maybe my  _ name?”  _

 

“Okay, okay,” chuckled, “thank you, Keith. You have very pretty handwriting.” Lance’s finger darted out to swipe at a little piece of chocolate frosting on the side of the cake. Keith just scoffed, reaching down to grab a container and bag for the cake. 

 

“There we go, all done. Have fun with your weird cake.” Keith pushed the bag towards him on the counter. Lance’s smile fell suddenly, morphing into something more contemplative. 

 

“Hey… uh, I’m sorry. I came in here and started yelling at you for not leaving your number or anything even though you had- and still have- every right to decide that for yourself,” Lance murmured, eyes on the cake like a child who was forced to apologize to his younger sibling.

 

“Nah man, don’t worry about it. I guess it was a dick move not to even say bye or anything…” Keith trailed, unsure of what to say. 

 

“Can you at least tell me why-” As if life had felt bad for stealing back his lemons, Nyma blessedly chose that moment to walk back up to the counter. 

 

“Ready to go, Lance?”

 

“I… yeah. Let’s head out.” Nyma looked up at Keith with another warm smile.

 

“It was great seeing you again, Keith. I presume Lance already invited you to the party tonight?” Keith noticed how Lance seemed to tense up. 

 

“Uh, no?” Keith responded dumbly, raising his eyebrows.

 

“Oh, I suppose that pleasure falls onto me, then. Keith, tonight we’re having a party for my half-brother. It takes place on Forte Street, just a few blocks from the Garrison campus. The house is huge and it’ll be packed, so you’ll have no trouble finding it. Will you come?” Nyma waited for his answer with that same composed demeanor, the polar opposite of Lance, who looked as if he wanted to crawl out of his own skin and die.

 

Keith waited a few moments to respond. His first thought was to politely decline, but...

 

“I guess I’ll go,” he shrugged, peering sideways at Lance.

 

“Wonderful,” Nyma grinned, “you can be my date! I’ll see you there at eight, Keith. Have a lovely rest of the day!” And before Keith Kogane could orient himself, the girl was dragging her slack-jawed companion away from the little bakery, their shopping cart in tow.

 

What the fuck?

 

* * *

 

“I don’t even have anything nice to wear, Shiro,” Keith groaned.

 

“Didn’t you say you were going to a frat party? Who cares if it’s nice?”

 

“And does Nyma even know I’m not straight? She asked me to be her date for this fucking thing.”

 

“Uh, you first met her after you slept with Lance,” Shiro reasoned through the phone laying on Keith’s bedside table.

 

“Then why did she ask me to go with her?” Keith slumped down onto his bed, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars Pidge had put up for him on the ceiling.

 

“Look,” Shiro sighed- Keith could imagine his expression despite the distance between them, “You’re reading into this way too much. Just throw on some clothes and go enjoy yourself for once.”

 

“But-”

 

“Keith. Go. I gotta hang up now, I’m pretty sure Allura’s burning the fettuccine Alfredo.” Keith heard a distinct  _ ‘am not!’  _ shouted back at his brother.

 

“Yeah, yeah. Say hi for me. I’ll drive up to come see you guys next weekend, all right?”

 

“Sure thing, kiddo. Just go to the party, you’re already half an hour late. Have fun tonight, don’t drink and drive, wear a condom-” Keith scowled and hung up the phone, letting it fall with a quiet  _ thud _ onto the bed. 

 

He stood up after a couple seconds of contemplation, staring at the sparse contents of his closet. Forcing himself not to read into it too much, he pulled out a black t-shirt and a pair of jeans, throwing them on before walking to the bathroom mirror to wash his face, brush his teeth, and tie his hair up in a ponytail. Lamenting over the horrible glasses he was forced to wear, he shoved his phone into his pocket and left his dorm. 

 

It was only a ten minute walk to Forte Street and, before he even turned the corner to approach the block, booming party music indicated exactly where the house was at. He walked up onto a lawn that was already littered with Solo cups and bottles, getting the sense that he was in a cheesy 80’s movie as he sidestepped past a couple rolling around on the grass with their lips locked together. The heady scent of pot and cheap alcohol welcomed him the moment he set foot inside, but he had been expecting that. What he hadn't been expecting, however, were the  _ bathing suits _ . Except for a handful of people, the warm bodies writhing around the dim living room were dressed in bikinis and swim trunks. He was frozen near the entrance of the house as a group of soaking wet girls in tight swimwear passed by him, trailing water along the floor. Shaking off the momentary lapse, he unsuccessfully tried to slip through the dancing crowd without getting chlorine water all over his clothes. He searched the room for a glimpse of Nyma or Lance, gritting his teeth in frustration when he was bumped into from behind by yet another tipsy shirtless guy. He felt pool water soak into the back of his shirt.

 

“Woah, sorry man!”

 

“It’s fine,” Keith huffed, turning around and pausing, “Hunk?”

 

“Keith!” The man laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “Good to see you, dude! Looking for Lance?”

 

“Nyma too,” he found himself answering with a nod. 

 

“Last time I saw, they were out back in the pool. Check over there,” he smiled. Keith felt a small rush of fondness for him.

 

“Thanks,” he responded gratefully as Hunk turned around to continue dancing with a pretty girl with wild hair and a crop top, making his way to the backyard through a pair of open doors. The scene outside was somehow even crazier than the one inside. The narrow pool was packed to the brim with people and the grassy area around the patio fared no better. The music was louder out here, a pair of speakers emitting a bass so intense that Keith could feel it in his chest. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so overwhelmed as he scanned his eyes over the dense crowd. Before he could even begin searching, he felt a wet hand land on his bicep, whirling around to come face to face with a toned, naked chest. He flicked his gaze upward, meeting dark blue eyes and a tipsy smile.

 

“Keith! I’m happy you decided to show up, dude,” he laughed, completely contrasting his earlier sentiments about definitely  _ not  _ wanting Keith there.

 

“Uh, yeah,” Keith shrugged noncommittally, raising an incredulous brow when Lance slung long arms around him in an awkward attempt at a hug. The shorter boy immediately hissed and arched away from the hold, frigid water now dripping down his neck and shoulders. He pushed Lance away from him with a scowl, his shirt soaking wet.

 

“Sorry, sorry,” the other man smiled apologetically, stumbling back a little and raising his hands in surrender. Keith couldn’t tell whether he’d done it on purpose. “Why didn’t you come in a bathing suit?” Keith frowned at the question, crossing his arms.

 

“I wasn’t told to. Where’s Nyma?”

 

“Probably still hooking up with her latest guy,” Lance shrugged. “Peter? Pedro? I don’t remember.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“...”

 

“...Can I get you something to drink? You can choose between cheap beer, cheaper vodka, or my personal specialty, the Rim Job.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

Lance gave him an ass-eating grin (pun very much intended). “Yep. The Rim Job. It tastes like shit but it gets the job done.” Keith just snorted.

 

“Sure, Lance. You can give me a Rim Job,” he smirked.

 

“You want an encore, huh?” Lance winked, and  _ okay damn, so that’s how it was gonna be.  _ Keith‘s face heated up at having the tables turned on him. The Cuban laughed as he turned around to move smoothly through the crowd (dammit, how the fuck did he do that?) to retrieve Keith’s drink. He couldn’t help but stare at Lance’s broad back and shapely ass as he walked. He stood where he was for a while and, just as the awkwardness of standing around on his phone was growing unbearable, Lance arrived with both hands closed around drinks. 

 

“Two Rim Jobs, served lukewarm with lots of love.” Lance handed him a drink that was a dubious shade of orange-brown. 

 

“What’s even in this?” Keith asked, swirling the liquor around in his cup.

 

“Don’t think, just drink.” As to emphasize his point, Lance started to swallow down the Rim Job in one long swig. Keith sighed, gulping once before following suit and chugging down the liquid. The concoction tasted as if Lance had mixed all the sodas available in the house and then doubled the amount with vodka. He noticed the distinct flavor of yellow Gatorade and tried not to gag. Lance finished his drink first, grinning as he lowered the cup from his lips. “Like it?”

 

“Nope,” Keith grimaced as he drained the cup, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “worst shit I’ve ever tasted.”

 

“Hey man, I warned you,” Lance laughed. Keith admired the pretty sound. “Anyway, you wanna come dance with me?”

 

“I’m good,” Keith answered, walking a few steps to place his empty cup on a table crowded with empty beer cans.

 

“Oh, come on, sweetheart. Can’t dance?” Lance smirked and Keith would be lying if he said the smooth tone didn’t do things to him.

 

“I’m not a bad dancer, I just don’t like the idea of going in  _ there _ ,” Keith jerked his chin towards the mob of half-naked partygoer. He could barely differentiate individual people, watching an undulating mass of slick bodies dance to the pulsing beat.

 

“Just dance with me, Mullet,” Lance tried again, gaze shifting up to his ponytail at the name. Keith rubbed the nape of his neck.

 

“I don’t dance with just  _ anybody _ ,” the shorter male found himself teasing. He tried not to reflect on how he’d been drinking any time he pulled a move on Lance. Luckily, his soon-to-be dance partner was matching his grin with plush lips.

 

“Then I’ll be whoever you want me to be” Lance murmured. His large hand came to rest on Keith’s hip and Keith found himself leaning forward, tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip.

 

And then, because Keith couldn’t have nice things, he opened his mouth-

 

“Bill Nye the Science Guy.”

 

The spell was broken instantly and Lance was cackling at his joke, and  _ what the fuck Keith, why? _

 

“All right, science nerd,” Lance wheezed, wiping at his eyes and grabbing his hand. “Bill Nye it is. Let’s go talk climate change on the dance floor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol oops :)
> 
> not even gonna apologize for the wait this time

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everybody!! This fic has been in the makings for a while now and I finally got around to posting it so I have some motivation to continue writing. I have the general plot of the story in mind, but the logistics and technicalities of this thing are still up for grabs, so feel free to comment any feedback/suggestions/ideas! If all goes to plan, this should be many chapters long and be updated regularly. Once again, thanks to my incredible beta Leye for being such a wonderful person and dealing with my crazy :)


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